


Such A Bitter Pill

by LLReid



Category: Bloodbound (Visual Novels)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon LGBTQ Character, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Implied Sexual Content, Kamilah and mc are actually soulmates, LGBTQ Female Character, Light Smut, Mental Health Issues, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Healing, REQUEST!!, Recovery, Romantic Fluff, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:08:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26353936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid
Summary: Inspired by; Born Without A Heart by Faouzia {stripped version}~~~~~Anastasia moved to straddle Kamilah’s lap and hold her properly. The ancient vampire’s grip on her was excruciatingly tight, but she didn't complain — she knew the fact that Kamilah not only felt comfortable crying in front of her, but actually wanted her comfort was a much bigger deal than anyone else would ever be able to understand. They might’ve been in an insanely busy skyscraper in the busiest neighbourhood in Manhattan, with endless cars rumbling past on one side of the specially glazed floor-to-ceiling windows along with a crush of pedestrians, and hoards of well-dressed businessmen and women on the other, but neither of them cared. Kamilah was so frustrated and mentally exhausted that she was shaking violently as she buried her face into the crook of her neck.Kamilah let her hold her in a way she had never allowed anyone else to hold her before. Anastasia let her shake and shudder, and Kamilah truly felt safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t think less of her for it. Time held no meaning as they existed in each other’s embrace and fed each other with love and togetherness.
Relationships: Kamilah Sayeed/Anastasia Sayeed, Kamilah Sayeed/Main Character (Bloodbound)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	Such A Bitter Pill

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT: Could maybe write a funny one shot of kamilah’s assistant messing up again😂😂luckily mc was there so she could calm kamilah down and convince her not to fire Matthew or whatever his names is😂😂please (no pressure though❤️❤️😪)(ps.mc has to bribe kamilah with a nice time *cough*if you know what I mean)😂

“I just don’t know what I’m doing with my life!,” Mathew lamented.

“Pissing me off, evidently,” Kamilah growled from behind her desk. Mortals. Bloody mortals. By this point she was convinced that they existed solely to irritate her.

“I was stupid and unprofessional—“

“I’m well aware of that, mortal, tell me something I don’t know.”

“Kamilah, I seriously don’t know what happened—“

“What happened?!,” Anastasia asked as she burst into Kamilah’s office, cutting Mathew off. “You said it was an emergency and then apparently threw your fucking phone across the Atlantic Ocean— Oh shit. What the hell did you do this time, Mathew?”

At the sight of her wife, every rigid muscle in Kamilah’s body seemed to relax almost immediately. She’d been only a hair’s breadth away from launching herself over her desk and gouging this mortal’s eyes out for his incompetence. It might’ve been a dramatic inclination and she knew she couldn’t just go around stabbing people who pissed her off anymore — but it was not enough to simply know right from wrong. She needed the strength to do what was right, even when what she wanted most in the world was to do the wrong thing. Doing what was right and not resorting to threats and violence whenever someone irritated her was just a different kind of battle than the ones she was used to fighting, one she was still learning how to win. That was why she’d sent a text message to her wife. When she felt weak, she trusted Anastasia above all others to be her strength, to be the one to keep her standing. 

“I, um—“

“If you had the audacity to mess up the way you did, you had best own up to what you did,” Kamilah snapped. She felt her eye twitching and her fangs scraping against the inside of her mouth, drawing blood. She knew she should be yelling, but her limbs wouldn’t move. This was what it felt like to be paralysed with rage. Yes, she was going to do it. She was going to finally go utterly psychotic and prove the whole world right about her. She was going to walk over to this arrogant asshole and take him apart if he didn’t correct his behaviour.

Coldness etched her crimson gaze.

Aloofness whispered from her posture.

Calculation radiated from her every pore.

The mortal had never been so intimidated or so intimately challenged as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I was sending an e-mail to the CEO of Manon Financial from my phone and accidentally attached a video of myself twerking to Fergalicious in neon pink assless chaps at my best friend’s bachelorette party. I may have been holding a bong in the shape of a dick... it’s— a whole thing.”

Anastasia pressed her lips together into a thin line in a desperate bid to stop herself from doubling over laughing, but she couldn’t entirely hide the shaking of her shoulders. “You— That— Wow.”

“Wow, indeed,” grumbled Kamilah. “Leave us, mortal.”

“Should I pack my desk, or—“

“Just take a walk,” Anastasia whispered to him as she ushered him towards the door. “We’ll fix this—“

“Anastasia, I need this job,” Mathew sighed, his dark eyes silently pleading her to appeal to Kamilah. By this point, she was the only one who Kamilah would even listen to. “I don’t know what I’ll do— I have nothing else.”

Dismissed, he groped for his jacket behind him, found it, and wished that his groping for mercy could be as successful. The faces around the mortal were all the same. They could have been carved in stone. But not stone as hard as that that was coming together again around his soul. That rock was remarkably quick to mend — and an extra layer was added, like the layering of a pearl, but not covering anything nearly so prettily.

“I know,” the Bloodkeeper nodded sympathetically. “Just... go cool off and I’ll have Tyler text you when you can come back. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

The moment the door closed behind him, Kamilah folded in on herself, her aching head held in her hands. Mathew’s mistake could possibly have cost her an important contract she and her board had been working to secure for the better part of three years. She knew realistically that it wasn’t the end of the world but the thought of three years of labour going to waste over a pair of assless chaps made her feel physically nauseous.

She moved to walk across the room towards her wife, but she stopped and leaned against her desk, and started to sob before she could stop herself or even really realise exactly what she was doing. Horrible, silent cries that made her bend double, curling around her stomach, as though it hurt to weep like that. Anastasia was at her side in seconds and lowered her to the floor, and she crouched down beside her, almost soundless. Tears of frustration ran over her cheeks and dropped off her chin as she buried her face in Anastasia shoulder and rocked back and forth. Kamilah never cried. Never. She was forged from iron; she never broke. No one was tougher than she was. The worst part was how quietly she wept, she’d taught herself how long ago and had become so used to doing it that it had just become the way she cried.

“I need security to escort him from my building.” 

“No, you don’t,” Anastasia soothed. “You just need to give me five minutes with you to calm you down.” 

“I should’ve stabbed him for what he did—“

“No, you promised you would stop stabbing people. I’m tired of getting blood out of your clothes.”

“That mewling mortal is lucky to still have breath in his lungs,” she huffed. “Three years of work could now be rendered meaningless— uncountable nights away from you, transatlantic trips, working overtime to foster this relationship...”

“Have you called Kurt Manon to explain what happened?”

“Of course I have but he is on a plane, so I had to leave a message. We’re fucked, Annie. Well and truly fucked.”

Anastasia moved to straddle Kamilah’s lap and hold her properly. The ancient vampire’s grip on her was excruciatingly tight, but she didn't complain — she knew the fact that Kamilah not only felt comfortable crying in front of her, but actually wanted her comfort was a much bigger deal than anyone else would ever be able to understand. They might’ve been in an insanely busy skyscraper in the busiest neighbourhood in Manhattan, with endless cars rumbling past on one side of the specially glazed floor-to-ceiling windows along with a crush of pedestrians, and hoards of well-dressed businessmen and women on the other, but neither of them cared. Kamilah was so frustrated and mentally exhausted that she was shaking violently as she buried her face into the crook of her neck.

The September sky outside cried for her, the rain coming down hard and angry, steaming off the ground and battering against the windows.

Kamilah let her hold her in a way she had never allowed anyone else to hold her before. Anastasia let her shake and shudder, and Kamilah truly felt safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t think less of her for it. Time held no meaning as they existed in each other’s embrace and fed each other with love and togetherness. Anastasia silently vowed that she would hold her for the rest of her life and ensure she never felt anything but acceptance, adoration, and unconditional love.

“I’m firing him.”

“Kami—“

“He’s an incompetent imbecile who has messed up one too many times— and I am not a patient person.”

“You don't have much faith in people, do you?,” asked Anastasia. 

“I don't have much faith in anything,” Kamilah replied. “Not even in myself. You may be the one thing in this world I can still believe in.”

Anastasia said nothing as she helped Kamilah to her feet and led her towards the couch. After sitting her down, she glided towards the minibar that was filled with bottles of wine and champagne Kamilah had received from clients and colleagues, and she poured two glasses of Château Petrus 2010.

Kamilah smiled weakly. Her sad smile — crooked and cynical and too familiar with the world — and at the same time full of love. “You’re encouraging me to start day drinking now?”

“If you were mortal you’d have given yourself a stroke or an aneurism by now, so... yeah. Day drinking whilst we talk seems like a good idea.”

Kamilah nodded and leaned closer to Anastasia as she sat down and handed her one of the glasses — the one that was filled up most. For a moment the two of them just sat there in a companionable silence as Kamilah tried to collect her thoughts. It was still so bizarre to her that someone else could know exactly what it was that she needed, when she wasn’t entirely sure herself. To have someone else be so willing to help her feel better, and also be so forgiving of her less than fine moments. Anastasia had learned with Kamilah that sometimes it was best not to ask her every question that came to mind right away when she got herself into these funks, knowing that she wasn’t always good at describing exactly why she felt the way she did, and knowing that most things would be understood in their own time.

“Three days ago he and the interns spilled coffee and then washed the expensive marble floors in my main conference room with some cheap floor cleaner they ran out and bought at a dollar store instead of just calling the janitors like a sane individual. The entire room is now so slippery and smells so bad it has become a health and safety hazard. An intern fell and twisted her ankle. He slid across the floor and shattered the glass door— and now this. What am I supposed to do?” She sighed and took long sip out of her drink. “Mortals. Bloody mortals. He continues to make these ridiculous mistakes. He's not necessarily lazy. He's just highly inefficient at almost everything.”

“For all his mistakes, I can name ten good things that I think you’d miss if you fired him because you’re in the middle of a mood swing—“

“I don’t have mood swings.” Kamilah pouted. “I just hate everything.”

“Kami,” Anastasia sighed.

“Fine. Enlighten me.”

“Well, for one, he organises your schedule so perfectly that you’ve always got plenty of free time regardless of how busy you are. He knows your routines and your quirks, down to the type of blood you prefer to feed on. He isn’t phased by the amount of vampires he has to deal with on a daily basis and doesn’t complain when he has to work nights or make trips to the blood bank. He’s loyal and you trust him — you trust him enough that he’s allowed in your office when you’re not around and he’s the only person besides me who knows how to access your computers.” 

Kamilah huffed.

“I know he is a little bit crazy with a side of fucking nuts. And that is a professional opinion.” Anastasia gently stroked her hair out of her face. “He might make stupid mistakes sometimes, sweetheart, but Ahmanet is as important to him as it is to you. You know how rare it is to find an assistant who cares that much— and even though you’ll deny it, you care about him... when he got into that car accident last year you were distraught enough to consider Turning him, you wouldn’t have done that if he was just another mewling mortal to you.”

Kamilah sighed and tossed her daggers across the room. “I’m trying so hard to be better than the person Gaius made me... but every time I get even the slightest bit upset I want to reach for my blades so badly that it clouds my judgement to the point I can hardly think straight. What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Kami. You’re still recovering from so much... you have to be kind to yourself. You’re a good person—“

“No,” she whispered, “I’m not. I want to be, though. I want to be worthy. I want to learn from you. I want to change for you. I want to be a good person. For you, Anastasia, I will try.”

“You’re already more than enough.” Anastasia pressed her lips against her temple. “Healing isn’t always linear. Your temper getting the best of you every once in a while doesn’t mean that you’re taking ten steps backwards. The person you were with Gaius isn’t who you are now— isn’t who you’ll ever be again.”

“How do you know?,” Kamilah whispered, all of her fear and vulnerability showing in her glassy eyes. She was obsessed with finding redemption. Fuelled and empowered by love, through all of her less than stellar moments. Possessed by hope. Consumed by a past she couldn't quite shake.

“Because its all about how you look at things. We often choose to make something ugly or beautiful, instead of just seeing it for what it is. You got upset, it happens to everyone. Does it make you a monster? No. I’m right here and I will not allow you to become that person again.” She wrapped her pinkie around hers and whispered, “I promise.”

She nodded and leaned into the contact as Anastasia wiped her tears away. She had spent all the years full of guilt and misery, even though she didn't always acknowledge it. She sometimes let it run her thoughts, her plans, her whole life. But the experience didn’t have to own her. She could own it. What she did with it could be up to her, just like what Anastasia did with her powers was up to her.

“Now you listen to me. You are good enough and I love you, exactly as you are. You're with me everywhere I go but I miss you when we're apart. I've already shown that I will kill for you. I would also die for you. You make me laugh. You make me happy. You're my miracle and my home... I will always come for you, always want you, always need you, and I will always be here for you no matter what it is that you need. We clear?"

“Okay,” Kamilah whispered.

“Okay.”

Kamilah’s expression softened as she gazed at her in complete adoration. After everything she’d done in her life, Anastasia was always the one to bring back her light. With her guidance she had claimed her own destiny once again and in the same breath handed it over to her. This woman... this woman was her light in the dark. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a fragile whisper, “I swear I could live a thousand more years and not deserve you.”

“You deserve me, love. Even if you don’t think you do... you do.”

Kamilah sighed and took another long sip of her drink. How she loved everything about this woman — the way she would stick up for people even she had nothing to gain from it. The way she always kept on trying to do the right thing for everyone, even when she was not exactly sure what the right thing was. She loved how she just knew how to put words together. She was as skilled with words as any knife fighter with a blade. She could put an enemy down on his back, or she could raise people up so they found what was best in themselves. She’d changed Kamilah’s whole life. She’d given her the words she had always needed to become whatever she wanted. She always treated her as if she were capable of great things. Which made her want to accomplish great things. Her words were so valuable. They were the true wealth of Kamilah’s soul.

It hadn’t always been so easy for Kamilah to surrender and allow herself to be taken care of, after having not had someone who cared for the vast majority of her life. But now she really did feel happier and far more mentally healthy than she ever imagined that she’d ever be. Anastasia didn’t even have to access her abilities to calm her down, she just seemed to have a knack for getting through to her. Together they laughed and laughed, and nothing could ever be too sad for too long, no one could ever be too lost, or too stressed, or too dead, or too far away: right now they were here, and nothing could mar that perfection, or steal the joy from their perfect moments.

She sat aside her wine glass and rested her head on Anastasia’s shoulder. “The board will demand some sort of retribution for this if Manon pulls out, Annie. It is not a simple matter of me just deciding to forgive him.”

“I can deal with a bunch of Boomers in five seconds flat,” Anastasia breathed as she danced her fingertips across Kamilah’s clammy forehead, wordlessly healing the migraine that was brewing. “It might not be ethical... but neither is a bunch of people making six figures demanding the firing of a young man who is far more dedicated and educated than they could ever hope to be. I wouldn’t feel bad about making them forget all about the video.”

Kamilah smirked, her shoulders sagging in relief as the pressure inside her skull began to melt away. “Would you do the same to Kurt Manon and his board to save my deal and my reputation?”

“I’m sure that could be arranged... but the next time I have to play fairy godmother, I'm shoving a wand up someone's ass.”

Kamilah let out a watery laugh and playfully bit down on her shoulder. “You pervert.”

“That’s not what you said last night.” Anastasia kissed her hair. “You’re always so stoic and intellectual and shit. It’s good to know deep down your vagina is as stupid and horny as the rest of ours.”

She huffed out the most poshly indignant puff of air and the biggest smile spread across her face as she somehow found herself pinned to the couch, concealed from the world behind a thick curtain of ginger hair that fell over them both. The marks they had laced each other with the night before seemed fit to last a full week. Every time Kamilah looked in a mirror, or touched a bruise, she grew slick. Anastasia visited her daydreams. Left her with an aching wetness and a yearning heart.

“I take it that was an argument between your conscience and your vagina, and your vagina seems to have won,” she smirked.

“Something like that.”

“Well, thank god for that,” she sighed as she rubbed her thighs. “I could use a little something to calm me down before I talk to Mathew again.”

Anastasia nipped at her bottom lip. “The wine wasn’t enough for you?”

Kamilah shook her head, heat rising to her cheeks. “Not even close. Will you... just... make me forget about everything for a while?”

“I’d love to.” She kissed her brow. “Say your safe word for me.”

Her breath hitched. Her skin begged for Anastasia’s expert touch. Her lips tingled for hers. Every inch of her craved what only she could deliver. “Red.”

“Good girl,” she replied in that slow, silky way of hers. She loved her voice when it got thick like honey. Most of the time she spoke so quickly and giggly that she lost track. She liked it when her tone got sensual and husky. 

“I need you so fucking much.”

“I’ve got you.”

Her ancient eyes fluttered closed as she threaded her fingers through Anastasia’s hair and surrendered herself to her entirely. Submission didn’t come to her by nature. It was a hard thing for an educated woman like Kamilah to turn her head off and surrender everything, especially after everything that she’d been through. But she had come to realise that was all part of the joy of switching roles every once in a while, in being a submissive to the woman she loved and trusted above all others. None of the decisions would be hers for a while, and she knew she’d be safe and taken care of. She could switch off. When she was pinned down with threads of psychic energy to the point she couldn’t even move unless it was permitted, those nagging voices in her head would go silent. All she could do, and all she was permitted to do, was feel. 

And it was glorious.

There really was nothing like finding oneself stripped bare in the middle of the work day, pinned beneath the woman she loved who was doing all sorts of filthy things to her because she belonged to her. For a while, she was Anastasia’s little toy. Hers to fuck as often as she could and in as many ways as that filthy mind of hers could possibly come up with. 

Anastasia’s touch could shatter her. Awaken her. Destroy her in a million different ways. Anastasia was smooth water — effortless in refinement but just like still water, dangerous if you couldn’t swim and heavenly if you could.

She felt her inside of her.

She felt her claiming her.

She felt her destroying her and healing her.

She felt her all around her.

She felt her loving her, unconditionally.

As Kamilah moaned and writhed, Anastasia became her obsession, and she her possession. She owned the deepest part of her withered old soul. She seemed to crawl into the darkness, and set the monster free only to tame it. Anastasia had successfully torn her from her past, stripped her of her frantic mind, and abducted her aching heart — and Kamilah was hers. Irreversibly.

When she told Anastasia that she loved her, she meant that she was her safe place in every way that a person could become that for someone else — and that wasn’t something that either of them took lightly. Being with Kamilah wasn’t always easy sailing, even though she seemed like this unshakable force of nature that really wasn’t the case. Nobody but Anastasia truly knew the demons she battled every day, nobody else had any inclination of just what was happening inside her head at any given moment — but she really did feel stronger than she’d ever been. Strange how vulnerability could lead to the acquisition of so much inner strength. It just went to show that people don’t know who they really are until they meet the people they’re supposed to be with.

Love was something that struck without warning to the most unsuspecting. It was a fucking gift and was so goddamn priceless, but only the worthy realised what they had. Only the ones truly deserving fought every fucking day to treasure it. And those who didn’t… they ended up alone. This woman had stolen her loneliness and her sadness. Kamilah may have given her wings, but Anastasia had become her gravity. And she never wanted to be free of her force. 

She was her salvation, her reason for existence, her queen. Kamilah’s heart beat for her alone, and Anastasia’s beat for her in turn. Kamilah’s, Anastasia’s — they chimed to the very same beat. Wherever they ended up in the world, whatever they did or whoever they decided to tie their lives to, they’d never truly be whole unless they were one.

It might’ve taken her approximately 2,063 years, but Kamilah had found herself an anchor. And she was holding on tight. The blackness mad have tried to swallow her whole, kill her, ruin her, and capture her soul... but it would never win. She knew that no matter what, everything would come to be alright.

Now and for always.

Alive or dead.

They were one, and one they always would be.

~ fin.


End file.
